


Boy on a Swing

by htbthomas



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Bullying, Family, Gen, Pre-Canon, Yuletide 2011, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-27
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-26 14:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htbthomas/pseuds/htbthomas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marie sees a lot of her dead sister – and herself – in her little nephew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy on a Swing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melissima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissima/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy this treat! Spoilers only for Grimm 1.01-1.02, the rest is speculation.
> 
> Thank you so much to my beta, ishie!

Nick’s small fingers intertwine in Marie’s as they walk through the short grass to the playground. It’s busy today, much busier than she usually likes. On one hand, there is less chance of a creature attack – most types avoid crowds, though some thrive on them. On the other hand, if she needs to go Grimm at any time, she will have to be extremely careful. There is a reason that she feels most at home surrounded by stacks of books.

But Nick needs to play. She keeps him cooped up at home too often, worried for his safety. She hides the worry from him. He has enough to deal with in his young life, orphaned and living with a maiden aunt. She does her best, but it never feels like it’s enough.

When they get close to the equipment, he breaks free of her hand with a shout and makes a beeline for the swings. She doesn’t bother to call out for him to be careful. She knows she can protect him, whatever happens.

She finds an empty seat on a bench, beside a woman, knitting as she keeps one eye on her child. Or children. Marie nods cordially, but doesn’t ask. Small talk is painful these days, ever since her sister died.

“Aunt Marie!” Nick calls to her. “Look how high I can go!”

She waves back, smiling. As she watches Nick swing, his face bright with happiness, she remembers the same expression on her sister’s face. The set of her features, full of exhilaration, as they tracked a creature to its ‘den,’ be it cave or cottage. Marie took it as a serious family responsibility, but her sister _loved_ the Grimm life. Two sides of the same coin. Together, they were unstoppable.

Until they were. Her sister never worried about the Reapers following them, always thought they could stay one step ahead. She never worried that bringing a husband, a child, into this life, could be a problem.

Until it was. Her sister, her brother-in-law, both cut down in their prime – Marie wonders if he ever really knew why. Thank goodness little Nick had been staying over with a friend that night, or...

Marie watches him for a few moments. It has been a tough year for both of them, each other the only family either has left. Nick’s pain has faded, though she knows the memories never will. She’s had to cut back on actively hunting the supernatural since she gained custody of Nick. One day she’ll go back to the road, but it won’t be the same alone.

Will Nick come with her? Will he develop the gift and continue the family legacy? Sometimes the gift appears twice in a generation, as with Marie and her sister. Sometimes it skips a generation. There always seems to be just enough of them to carry on the fight.

When she prays, instead of asking for a companion, she often asks that Nick be spared. It would be best to carry on alone than drag someone she loves into it.

A boy, somewhat chubby for his size, has taken the swing beside Nick. He pumps his legs a few times, but can’t seem to get the swing going.

“Mom!” the boy cries, looking directly at their bench. ”Mom, come give me a push!”

Marie glances at the woman beside her, still knitting away. She must not be the boy’s mother, though Marie isn’t sure who he’s calling.

“Mom!” he cries more loudly. ”Please!”

Marie frowns. Where is the boy’s mother?

The woman speaks suddenly. ”He knows I won’t push him, yet he still asks. He needs to get stronger,” she says, a note of defensiveness in her words.

“ _Mom_!”

Marie won’t presume to give the woman advice, but she is just about ready to defy the woman and get up to help the boy herself. But before she can, Nick is slowing on his swing, his expression filled with concern. He’s always had a helpful spirit – so much like his mother. “I’ll push–”

“You need help?” Another boy, at least twice Nick’s age, now stands in front of them. With a cruel chuckle, he adds, “I’ll give you a push!”  With that, he knocks the other boy to the bark-covered ground.

The woman beside her is now furious. It’s one thing to insist her child help himself; it’s quite another to refuse to help him when he is in danger. Marie turns to the woman to offer her support...

The woman has transformed from placid knitter to enraged mama bear. And not figuratively, with Marie’s gift, she sees the jagerbar side the woman is now unable to control. Marie can also see bully’s victim’s eyes begin to glow, even as he struggles to rise from the ground

Marie instantly takes action. The jagerbar mother rears back, but finds her wrist caught tight. Shocked, the woman’s bear-side subsides and her rage turns to fear and distaste. ” _Grimm_ ,” she snarls.

Marie’s eyes narrow to icy slits. “Jagerbar,” she says, her voice ringing with authority born of both experience and gift, “There are too many people here. You will not be able to control your strength. That boy is _human_.”

The woman’s nostrils flare, the jagerbar showing again. ”I know well that he threatens my _son_ , Grimm,” she says with even more distaste.

“Then know this. I will take you down before you can lay a claw on him.” Marie holds the woman’s amber eyes. ”Let _me_ deal with it.”

Without waiting for assent, Marie takes several long strides toward the children. But she stops in her tracks at what she sees.

In the few short moments in which she and jagerbar mother argued, Nick had placed himself between the jagerbar boy and his tormentor. “Leave him alone,” Nick is saying. “He had the swing first, not you.” His voice holds no hint of pleading. Instead, she hears righteous anger and an unwillingness to back down.

“And _you’re_ going to stop me?” the bully asks with a laugh, looking Nick up and down.

Nick simply says, “Yes.” Behind him, the jagerbar boy makes a sound very like the cornered animal he is.

After a tense moment, the bully kicks at the bark between him and Nick. ”Whatever. It’s too small, anyway. Enjoy your _baby_ swing.” He turns and walks away.

Nick watches him go, probably to be certain that this is no trick. He nods with satisfaction, then turns toward the jagerbar boy, holding out his hand to help him up.

The boy looks at Nick’s outstretched hand. His beastly side subsides, and he takes it.

Nick helps the boy onto the swing and gives him a mighty push to get him started. Soon they are both laughing and competing over who can swing higher.

Thoughtfully, Marie returns to the bench. The jagerbar mother has gone back to her knitting as if nothing happened, completely calm.

Neither speaks for several minutes.

To the click of the knitting needles, Marie finds herself lost in thoughts of family traits and gifts passed down. How proud she is of Nick’s bravery, sense of justice and compassion. The bravery and sense of justice are traits they both share. Would that she had inherited a greater share of the compassion her nephew seems to have gotten from his dead mother in spades.

The woman is first to break the silence. “Do you not have a sister?”

Marie turns to look at her sharply, surprised. But the woman is simply curious, all of the animosity of before gone from her now-human features.

“I had.” At the woman’s expression, she explains, “She was lost to the hunt.”

The woman nods her condolences. “I heard that you two were the most fearsome pair in the Northwest.” Her words are tinged with respect.

Marie nods back.

The woman stands, then, and without further pleasantries, gathers her things and strides toward her son. She tells him they are leaving, to tell his new friend goodbye. The boy is unhappy, but does not argue. As they leave the park, the boy looks back at Nick, who waves, but the woman does not spare Marie another glance.

When Nick and Marie are leaving the park, Nick excitedly tells her about his new friend. “His name was Gerry. He was really nice. I hope we see him again!” Not a word about the bully.

“Maybe you will,” Marie says, getting into the car.

They never do.


End file.
